an open letter to my sexually active neighbor

Dear Neighbor:

Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jillian and I am the sleep deprived, single girl who lives one floor below you in this apartment complex. I have been a resident of this complex for nearly three months. It has become apparent that you lead an abundant sex life. Cheers!

I am not one to judge and it is not my intent to bestow any disrespect. Heck, under different circumstances I would probably ask you to come down so I could shake your hand and offer you a congratulatory beer.

The first time I played solo audience to your bold 3 a.m. production I smirked in a ‘wow this is uncomfortable but doggone it good for him’ sort of way. I admit your longevity was mighty impressive. My initial thought was “what a lucky girl” but when my pillow could no longer hinder the headboard to wall racket I was ready to hear the fat lady sing [*1]. I considered making a trip upstairs to offer guidance and/or assistance in an attempt to get the show on the road. I can assure you that your partner was ready to catch some zzz’s 30 minutes into the frolic. Despite popular belief, girls do not desire or expect all night sex fests.

3 months and several mid-night sessions between the sheets later I am exhausted. Lady-killer, your weekly rendezvous’ serve as a reminder of what I am not getting. I live by strong morals and, unlike yourself, don't give it out every weekend to the random drunk from the bar. Didn’t your parents teach you “it’s not polite to eat in front of others?” The same principle applies here.

Thank you for your kind consideration and please remember to wrap it up, buddy. Good day.

Your friendly neighbor,

Jillian

p.s. how about this weather?
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*[1]
For clarity purposes, this is a figure of speech not to be taken in a literal form. In reality, I had heard enough of your partner’s "singing" at this point and I have no idea of her size in weight.